


Steve's Secret

by Neverever



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Artist Steve Rogers, Holidays, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-19 13:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22044637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neverever/pseuds/Neverever
Summary: Steve has been sketching Tony since they met. But Steve will never have a chance with Tony, who is so far out of his league. Even though Tony seems to really like his new sweaters.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 24
Kudos: 208
Collections: 2019 Captain America/Iron Man Holiday Exchange





	Steve's Secret

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cachette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cachette/gifts).



> For Cachette. I liked so many of your prompts and really hope that I wrote the fic you were hoping for!

As Steve walked through the door, a stylist tossed an armload of sweaters at him. The Avengers had been scheduled for a last minute photo shoot promoting pet adoptions a couple of weeks before Christmas. And Steve had been stuck in line at the DMV for most of the morning. (Even Captain America had to deal with bureaucratic officialdom.) He’d barely made the photoshoot in time and now had an armful of knit wool and cashmere.

Five minutes later, a freshly polished and burnished Steve, dressed in a cream Irish fisherman cable knit sweater, was posed next to a brightly lit plastic Christmas tree that had stacks of colorfully wrapped presents on top of piles of slippery “instant” snow in front of what the photographer said was a “green screen.”

Standing patiently on his right, Sam asked, “DMV line long?”

Steve nodded, “Busier than usual.” He had waited for hours in a sea of unhappy people to register his new motorcycle and pick up his license plates.

“Glad you could make it, Cap,” Tony said, leaning across to rest a hand on Steve’s shoulder. A lingering, warm hand.

Steve’s nerves went a-tingle as his brain registered how nice Tony’s hand felt on his shoulder. Just the perfect weight, warmth, and size. Admittedly, Steve was biased, being half-in-love with the man with the robot suit. 

“Different from the war bond promos?” Tony asked with a wink.

“More dogs, for one thing.” Steve eyed the nearby pen of happy wriggling dogs ready to pounce on the humans. 

“It’s the hard-to-adopt crowd,” Tony added, again putting a (warm Iingering) hand on Steve’s arm. “Maybe we can get some deserving dogs a nice home for the holidays.”

Steve learned he could get used to Tony’s attention way too fast for his own good. Especially since the photographer posed Tony next to Steve throughout the whole photoshoot, with Tony’s shoulder bumping against Steve’s, or Tony’s hand positioned on his bicep, or Tony’s leg next to his thigh. He hadn’t considered the benefits of a modern photoshoot before. He’d be glad to do more if he’d be spending the time with Tony.

After the shoot was over, Natasha packed Steve’s sweaters up in a bag. “You need to keep that,” Natasha said as she folded up the cream cable knit sweater. “And that blue sweater too.”

Steve lifted an eyebrow. But the stylist nodded vigorously and even threw a pair of grey wool pants and a business card into the bag.

“We’ll pay for the clothes of course,” Natasha added.

“Yes,” Steve said as he took the bag from her. "That goes without saying.”

* * *

Steve wasn’t used to wearing sweaters but he was sure used to sketching Tony as much as he could. And to pining over Tony. Boy, was he pining over (brilliant and handsome) Tony. He’d probably fallen in love with the man when they first met on the helicarrier and it just got worse for Steve from there.

He watched Tony from afar, knowing Tony would never feel the same way. At first, it was because he knew Tony was in a serious relationship with Pepper. And then, because Tony was a continent away in Malibu, while Steve was living in Washington, D.C. Steve jumped at the chance to rejoin the Avengers when Tony called him to say that they needed to get the band back together when SHIELD collapsed. 

Even after Tony had broken up with Pepper and gotten back into the dating game, Steve still watched from a distance. Tony hadn’t once glanced in his direction since the team got back together. Steve was used to that. That feeling of not being wanted or desired had left an indelible mark on his soul, even after he got the serum and people told him he’d nab any person he wanted. Steve was used to never getting what he wanted. 

So Steve did what Steve did best. He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and pined for what he couldn’t have. Tony was the smartest, most interesting and bravest man Steve knew, and he just was not in Steve’s league by any stretch of the imagination.

Today he was wearing the navy-blue, body-skimming cashmere sweater he’d taken from the photoshoot. Sam nudged him in the elevator. “You do know that you could stop traffic in that sweater?”

“What?” He was distracted thinking he was going to need a new sketch book. He’d almost filled his current one with sketch after sketch of Tony. 

“The barista in the coffee shop dropped her coffee pot when you got to the counter. That guy in red Porsche nearly caused a five-car pile up when you crossed the road.”

It would probably be too obvious if he bought yet another moleskine with a red leather cover. Even though he had five of them. “Oh.”

“Steve, come on, man. You’re unreal -- people are throwing themselves at you and you can’t give a single one of them the time of day?”

“Tony should be back from DC today,” Steve replied.

“Right,” Sam said. “There’s always the Tony exception.”

“He was meeting about the Avengers and negotiating agreements.”

Sam sighed heavily. “Let’s hope he made some progress.”

Later, Steve settled down with coffee and his sketch book in the living room with the spectacular views of the city. Any other artist might be tempted by the city lights in the wintry landscape below. Not Steve, whose heart was already set on drawing Iron Man flying through the cityscape in his armor. He’d nearly filled half a sketch book already with those pictures and he wasn’t going to stop any time soon.

He loved capturing Tony at work, his nimble fingers dancing over a keyboard or cleverly working on the armor. Or Tony playing and bantering with Dum-E in the workshop. He drew Tony eating pizza, arguing with Bruce, sparring with Natasha, trying out an upgraded bow with Clint, attempting to arm wrestle Thor. Steve’s current favorite sketch was Tony deep in thought in front of a computer screen, a coffee mug on one side and an attentive Dum-E on the other. 

Or maybe, Tony in the armor wearing that hat with reindeer horns he’d worn at one of the Stark Industries holiday parties. 

Gosh, Steve had a lot of current favorite sketches. He couldn’t pick from just one.

His pencil flew over the pages of the sketch book, filled now with Steve and Tony fighting, flying and planning together. Each sketch drawn from a specific memory Steve had of being at Tony’s side when Tony figured out the supervillain’s master plan or when he and Tony executed a maneuver perfectly having barely practiced it. There might have been a couple of fantasy pictures of one-on-one fantasy victory celebrations with less clothes and more skin than usual. Maybe a smooch or two or a few or hundreds.

“Have you seen Dum-E?” Tony abruptly asked.

Steve slammed the sketchbook shut. Tony could neve ever see under pain of death or worse Steve’s notebook collection. Silly, Steve knew. He was a decent artist, could use more practice but who couldn’t? But the notebooks were like a window to Steve’s soul. And if Steve couldn’t possibly confess to Tony even a tiny percent of his feelings (which could fill a galaxy), he wasn’t ever going to let him get his hands on a single notebook since that would give the game away.

Tony stepped behind Steve and firmly planted his hands on Steve’s shoulders. “What are you watching?”

“Um.” Steve squinted at the pictures on the tv. “Football. I think.”

“Huh. They play football at this time of year?” 

The hands on Steve’s shoulders were scrambling his brain. Despite his photographic memory, Steve couldn’t name the score of the game, the teams playing on the television, or what football even was. “Yeah, I think.”

Steve mourned the loss of Tony’s hands on his shoulders, but only a short time. Because Tony decided to sit down on the couch right next to Steve, his arm and shoulder brushing against Steve’s.

“I’ve got a couple of hours to kill before I have to go out to dinner,” Tony explained. “Want to find a movie?”

“Sure!” Steve replied.

They liked most of the same films. What could go wrong? Except for Tony skipping out on his dinner plans and Tony and Steve spending the rest of the day watching completely terrible and awful films and laughing until their sides hurt and the pizza burned the tops of their mouths. And Steve had the best time in a long time.

Finally they had to call it a night. They walked back to their suites and Steve managed to say goodnight to Tony, feeling sudden tongue-tied.

It hit Steve that he should have asked Tony out for coffee or something when he was brushing his teeth. He’d had a good time with Tony, Tony appeared to have a good time too, it would have been the logical next step. But Steve was great at missing the boat on romance. At this rate, he just might finally ask Tony out at the end of the next century.

Steve wanted to bang his head against a door. 

* * *

But all was not lost.

During his workout the next day, Steve picked apart all his recent interactions with Tony, put one and one together and realized that Tony adored his sweaters. Every time he wore one, Tony was quick to touch Steve on his arm or shoulder or on his lower back that one memorable time. It wasn’t like Tony wouldn’t touch Steve when he was wearing a t-shirt but Tony made an effort when Steve wore a sweater.

So Steve invested in more sweaters, specifically the cashmere that Tony made grabby at. And Tony had a very particular preference for the cream cable knit sweater from the photoshoot. 

The campaign paid off. Like bees to flowers, Tony immediately showed up at Steve’s elbow whenever he showed up in a sweater. Steve basked in the attention. If only he could build up the confidence he needed to maybe, possibly ask Tony out.

Not today, not during the Avengers’ holiday party. No one had any other plans a couple of days before Christmas so Tony hired caterers and the team threw together decorations and furiously shopped for presents.

Steve’s morning didn’t start off well. He’d put yet another completely filled sketchbook into the sketchbook hoard. He checked the pile of books and the number present didn’t add up.

The blood drained from Steve’s face as he realized that someone had taken one of the sketchbooks. He hoped against hope that the missing notebook wasn’t the scuffed brown leather one that he never took out of his suite. He wouldn’t have minded any of the other ones -- the sketches were easy to explain. But this sketchbook was filled with all sorts of silly pictures. Like when Steve rescued Tony from a collapsing building, carrying him bridal-style through the ruins. Or Tony in a crown, drawn like Sleeping Beauty. Or Tony like a Wild West blacksmith. All of Steve’s little romantic daydreams of Tony.

Steve couldn’t let any one find that one.

He began to take apart his room just in case he had misplaced the sketchbook.

“Hey, Steve, you’re late,” Tony said from the doorway to Steve’s suite. “Party started without you.”

Steve was going through his linen cabinet, lifting and checking under towel in case he had put the sketchbook there.

“You’re having a towel crisis now? JARVIS can buy you more towels and have them delivered too.”

Before Steve could come up with a reasonable excuse for tearing up his bathroom, he noticed just how nice Tony looked in new jeans and a couple of layered t-shirts with that fluffy brown hair Steve longed to run his fingers through. And he certainly noticed Tony’s eager look at the cable knit sweater and his hand reaching out for Steve’s elbow. 

It didn’t take much for Tony to talk Steve into leaving for the party, the sketchbook all but forgotten in the glow of Tony’s smile.

At the party, Steve leaned against Tony as if sitting right next to Tony was a Steve god-given-right outlined right there in the Constitution and US Code. Not that any of the other Avengers would have dared to challenge for that spot on the couch.

Clint played Santa handing out the gifts one by one. Lulled into unwatchfulness by Tony’s laughter and the gift-giving, Steve almost missed it. The little glimpse of Dum-E out of the corner of his eye -- Dum-E waving a dull brown leather sketchbook. The first thought that registered in Steve’s brain was how funny it was that Dum-E had found a sketchbook much like the one missing from Steve’s hoard of Tony Sketchbooks. He sipped his hot cider. Then bolted upright and ran after Dum-E. 

Because Dum-E had in fact gotten his claw on a notebook from Steve’s hoard. 

“Steve, what the hell --” Clint yelled after him.

Steve raced towards the wandering Dum-E with all the speed he could muster. He hoped that he was mistaken, that Dum-E had grabbed another sketchbook. Maybe it was the book with the sketches of Tony in the armor and fighting as Iron Man. Or where Tony was at charity functions and hospital visits. Maybe it could the sketchbook filled to the brim with the hand studies? Tony knew about that one.

Steve grabbed the notebook in Dum-E’s claw. Dum-E refused to give up the book, instead gripping the book harder. Except that the claw had hooked only one side of the cover. Steve’s fingers slipped and he was holding on the other side of the cover. 

He waged a desperate tug of war fighting Dum-E with all that he had. The notebook bent and twisted under the pressure.

“Steve. Dum-E, stop that, both of you,” Tony said.

“Yeah, Steve, Dum-E is just a young robot claw and deserves to live,” Clint added.

The cover ripped and sent a fountain of pages into the air, each page covered in a sketch of Tony. Tony feeding ducks at a zoo. Tony putting party hats on Dum-E and U. Tony playing with a light saber. Tony as Sleeping Beauty (and Steve the Prince). Tony covered in grease and laughing. Tony looking up at Steve through dark wavy hair.

Steve froze in horror as a page floated back and forth on the slight air current, each little motion bringing it closer to Tony. Until the page gracefully landed right on Tony’s head. The sketch on the page was of course a lovingly rendered drawing (in color! Over two pages! With detailed background!) of Tony and Steve sitting on a park bench in Central Park sharing lunch on a spring day. One very particular spring day over a year ago when Steve discovered just how much in love he was with Tony.

Now that particular Tony was pulling the drawing off his head and looking at it. Then looking up at Steve and then down to the sheet of paper in his hands.

“Wow, Steve, that’s a fantastic sketch of you and Tony,” Sam cheerfully said. 

Steve looked back and forth at his teammates and did what anyone else would done. He prepared to flee --

When Tony gently smiled at him and put a warm hand on his arm, melting Steve’s heart and brain. “Let’s pick up the pages, just you and me.”

The other Avengers were exchanging meaningful looks and backing away from the scene. 

“We could do that,” Steve babbled in response.

Tony told Dum-E to return to the workshop while Steve started to gather up the pages. Once Dum-E was gone, Tony helped to pick up the sketches. Except he stopped to look at each one, a smile on his face. Steve would have preferred that the earth open up and swallow him whole to the agony of watching Tony look at these sketches.

“Still my favorite,” Tony said, holding the park bench sketch.

Steve stood with an armful of paper, feeling every bit of confidence leave his body.

“You could offer to show me your drawings in your suite, just like the old pick-up line,” Tony continued.

“You like my drawings?”

“You bet and Dum-E wanted to show them to me. Don’t know how he knew about your sketchbook.”

Steve knew -- Dum-E probably saw him drawing Tony in a book and things escalated from there. “From seeing me use one.”

Tony peered at the drawings in Steve’s arms. “Let’s talk about this some more -- over coffee. Maybe dinner. Yeah, dinner would be a better option. Throw in a movie too --”

The tension eased out of Steve’s shoulders. “Are you asking me out on a date?” He hoped he was right.

“Yes, I am. And you better wear that blue sweater.”

Steve wanted to know the details of where, when, how. “I’ll wear any sweater you want --”

Clint yelled from the back of the room. “Hey, lovebirds, we’ve got a Christmas thing going on, you want to join us?”

Steve smiled at Tony, put the sketches down on a nearby bookshelf, and let Tony pull him back to the party and their ordained spots on the couch.

And laughed when he opened his present from Tony -- another soft cashmere sweater.

“What can I say? I have a kink,” Tony admitted quietly as he ran a hand over Steve’s arm.


End file.
